Chaos Charm
by penny1200
Summary: Hermione slowly learns that failed plans sometimes have the best consequences.


Spoilers: Compliant with Deathly Hallows but ignores the epilogue.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. The Harry Potter series is owned by J.K. Rowling and I'm not her.

A/N: I know that it's been forever since the last time I wrote anything, but, quite honestly, I just haven't had the inspiration. I don't know that I necessarily had writer's block; it was just that the passion that I used to have for writing had disappeared. However, a couple of days ago I was hit with the idea for this story out of the blue, so I had to write it. Hopefully I can use this as an inspiration jump off to work on my unfinished stories. I know I've used a similar format before for my Yuffentine fics, but I absolutely adore the 'five times and one exception' format. Please read and review! Thanks!

Hermione Granger was a planner. As a woman who believed in logic, she felt that planning was the only sensible course of action in life. Even as a child, she had been far more pragmatic than her peers. No matter her age, she had always had a long-term goal, from getting the highest grades each semester to passing legislation protecting house-elves. The wonderful thing about having a plan was that it was simply a series of short-term goals that ultimately led to a desired end result. So not only was she able to achieve her ultimate goal, but she also benefited from the outcomes of the small steps in between.

Honestly, she didn't understand why anyone would want to be anything other than a planner; it was simply so much more efficient than the alternatives.

Of course, simply making plans didn't ensure success. Too often unpredicted variables would appear and throw things off course, if not outright ruin them. It was impossible to be friends with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley without learning that lesson to its full extent. Over their years together, the three of them had made several plans in order to help with whatever horrible incident was occurring in their lives at the time. Looking back, Hermione couldn't remember a single one that had worked out exactly as they had predicted. While they did usually manage to reach their long-term goal, the steps in between were often shot completely to hell.

Hermione preferred to blame her two male friends for the things that went wrong. And it was true that the variations could usually be traced back to Harry's hero tendencies or Ron's recklessness. There was, however, another factor that wasn't so readily visible, one that only Hermione herself knew played a role when their plans inevitably fell apart.

Hermione Jean Granger had terrible luck.

See, while Hermione wanted to blame Harry and Ron for everything that went wrong, she knew that a good portion of it could be blamed on the fact that she was a magnet for chaos. Because, yes, she had been making plans for herself since she was a child.

And those plans had been going awry for just as long.

ooooo

As lonely as Hermione's first few months at Hogwarts had been, they weren't exactly unusual for her. Sure, the fact that she finally knew why odd things happened around her had been an improvement and the classes were very different, but the isolation and mockery had been all too familiar.

Hermione had never fit in with her classmates during primary school. She was far too serious and focused on doing her very best, even as far back as when that simply meant coloring inside the lines. She had never had time for silly things like dolls or games of pretend. And forget playing house - even at six years old, Hermione knew that she wanted more out of life than to be just a wife and mother. She wanted a career, too. Of course, at that point, the career that she had wanted was that of queen (never princess), but then again, she had only been six.

Although Hermione had felt different from her peers, she had very badly wanted to have friends. She watched them laughing and playing at recess, and she wanted to share a small slice of their fun. So, for the first time ever, Hermione sat down with a notebook and a pencil borrowed from her mother's desk to form a plan to win over her schoolmates. She realized that she would need to have something in common with them to stand a chance of achieving her goal. She had considered what she knew about the others, specifically the girls, to decide on the best course of action for becoming friends with them.

Her eventual conclusion was that she needed to begin taking dance classes. Several of the girls in her year were taking ballet at the same studio, and Hermione decided that she needed to join their class. It was the easiest way to have something in common with them.

Initially her plan had worked perfectly. Sure, she didn't have an ounce of natural aptitude for dancing, but she was able to muddle through well enough. Anyway, it wasn't as if she was there for the dancing; she just wanted the chance to make a few friends her own age.

And, much to her surprise, she had. The instructor had assigned another girl to help Hermione catch up to the class and learn the basic moves for their upcoming recital. The girl, Mae, was in Hermione's year at school and she was very patient and kind while she was helping the young genius learn to dance. They had spent a lot of time talking, both in and out of school, and Mae had helped Hermione get to know the other girls in their class.

The next month was wonderful. Hermione had friends, and, yes, sometimes that meant that she had to do things that she thought were silly, like when Mae made her play restaurant with their stuffed animals, but she felt it was worth it. The other kids didn't call her names anymore or tease her about her hair or teeth. For the first time ever, Hermione truly felt accepted.

When the night of the recital arrived, Hermione had felt completely confident. Maybe she wouldn't be the best dancer on the stage, but what did it matter? She had friends and that had been the goal all along, after all.

She certainly didn't expect that her world was about to come crashing down around her.

Literally.

Even now, so many years later, Hermione can close her eyes and summon up the image of that stage at will. While the center of the stage was cleared for the dancers, the sides, back, and front edge had been decorated to add to the atmosphere. Thin, graceful columns wrapped in clear, twinkling lights had started on one side of the stage and wrapped around the back to the other side. Gauzy streamers in lavender, white, and pale yellow had connected one pole to the next in twisting, overlapping arcs. The front edge of the stage was lined with thin beams of wood bearing the same lights and ribbons as the columns. Upon catching sight of the decor, Hermione had been unable to help the awe that had overcome her six-year-old mind. It looked like a fairy land.

Or it would have if she had been prone to the same flights of fancy as other girls.

Half an hour later, Hermione, dressed in her sequined lavender leotard with its shimmering white tutu, had taken her place at one end of the line that her class had formed for their performance. She moved through the first four positions, the demi-plies in each, and even glided across the stage successfully. When she shifted into the fifth position, and the most difficult for her, she swayed slightly but was proud when she remained upright and held the position. However, as she began the demi-plie, she lost her balance and tumbled into the column next to her, landing on her butt.

She had watched in horror as the column, which was obviously lighter than it looked, had brushed the one behind it on the way down. The noise of the first pole hitting the floor caught the attention of the other dancers and all movement on the stage ceased as dancers and audience alike watched the columns topple like a row of dominoes. To Hermione, it was as if time was moving in slow motion. The music had faded out of her consciousness until the only sounds were the thunk of each pillar against the next and the crash as each one hit the stage.

Just when she was sure that nothing worse could happen, the furthest front column on the right side of the stage had fallen forward into the audience and landed on the audio equipment, sending up a small shower of sparks. Hermione became aware of the music again only when it abruptly cut out.

For a moment, silence reigned. Hermione took advantage of the time to stand up. No sooner had she reached her feet than an angry scream rent the air.

Startled, Hermione looked toward the noise. Mae was standing in the center of the line, shaking badly. The other girl's head snapped around in Hermione's direction and a mere two seconds later, Mae was standing in front of her.

"You ruined everything!" the redhead screamed. "Everything!"

"I'm sorry," Hermione mumbled, knowing that nothing she said would make up for what had happened.

"You're so stupid! My daddy came tonight and now he won't get to see me dance!" Mae yelled. "You stupid beaver-face!"

On the final insult, Mae shoved Hermione hard enough that she once again ended up sitting on the stage. As her dance class passed by her into the wings, they each repeated Mae's insulting name to her.

Hermione was left sitting in the wreckage of her perfect plan, tears rolling down her face as she realized that her poor dancing skills had cost her all of her new friends.

ooooo

During Hermione's first year at Hogwarts, she had been disconcerted to learn that, as bad as she was at dancing, she was even worse at flying. While it galled her that there was something she couldn't best, even with all of the knowledge that she had, she decided not to worry about it too much. Even then, when she didn't know anyone native to the wizarding world well enough to comfortably ask, she had been fairly sure that not all wizards used brooms. She had already studied the various forms of magical transportation, so she knew about the Floo network, Portkeys, and Apparition. It was only logical that those methods existed because there were witches and wizards out there who didn't use broomsticks. Holding onto that conclusion, Hermione had set aside the idea of learning how to fly.

She successfully maintained her non-flying status until fourth year when unexpected circumstances forced her to look into flight once again.

Much to Hermione's surprise, she had attracted the superstar Quidditch player that all of the girls had been after. Viktor Krum, Triwizard champion and hero of the World Cup, had decided that he wanted one of the only girls who didn't want him. Hermione still didn't know what had attracted him. Maybe it was her surly disposition or her bushy hair. Perhaps he just fancied a challenge. Whatever it was, he picked her, not just as his Yule Ball date, but as his girlfriend.

After the ball, Hermione had spent plenty of time with Viktor. She was stressed from her worry over Harry and her frustration and confusion with Ron's behavior regarding Viktor on top of the masses of homework the teachers were assigning. The few hours that she spent with her boyfriend were like an oasis in the middle of the desert that was her life.

Not that they ever did anything that exciting. Mostly he just watched her do her homework. Sure, they had kissed a couple of times, and while she was sure that Viktor wanted to move their relationship forward, she wasn't ready. Luckily, he was a good enough guy that he never pressured her. Since she wasn't willing to give him physical liberties, she decided to give him something else she knew he would enjoy.

She would learn to fly.

Once she had made the decision, she had taken quill and parchment and locked herself behind the hangings of her bed. She needed to come up with a plan for how she was going to achieve this particular goal. She briefly considered asking either Harry or Ron to teach her, but she quickly dismissed that idea. Harry needed to spend his free time figuring out the egg and Ron...well, she was pretty sure that Ron wouldn't want to teach her to fly when Viktor would benefit from it.

With those two options dismissed, she had quickly written down the steps to her plan. Step one: Research flying techniques and tips. Step two: Practice using the school brooms.

Step one had been easy enough to achieve. If there was one thing Hermione was fantastic at, it was research. Two weeks in the library later and she had found herself with dozens of tips guaranteed to help her fly.

Step two was where the plan fell irretrievably apart.

Hermione was afraid of heights. Terrified of them, actually. Even if she'd had a natural talent for flying, it wouldn't have mattered because she _did not want to fly_. She'd keep her feet on the ground, thank you very much. So when she moved to step two, she would simply stand in the center of the deserted Quidditch pitch, wrapped in her cloak, hat, scarf, and gloves, and clutching the borrowed broomstick. After a couple of hours of indecisiveness, she would give up, drop off the broomstick in the shed, and then head back up to the castle.

A week into this pattern, Hermione was once again in the middle of the pitch after the Slytherin team's practice ended, hesitating to actually mount the broom that she held.

Biting her lip, the brunette stared at the harmless-looking, yet completely terrifying inanimate object.

"You can do this," she whispered to herself. "You are Hermione Granger. You solved Snape's riddle in first year. You discovered the basilisk in second year. You time-traveled and helped to save Sirius and Buckbeak's lives last year, and you taught Harry how to cast a summoning charm in one day. You will not be defeated by a stupid broom, an item that Muggles use to clean." She narrowed her eyes at the broom in question before repeating, "You can do this."

Courage built up, Hermione dropped the broom on the ground. With as much force as she could muster, she held her hand over the broom and called, "Up!"

She must have used too much force because the broom jumped immediately into her hand and then kept rising into the air. Shocked, Hermione clutched tightly to it with one hand as it pulled her into the air. When she was about five feet off the ground, she started to panic and scrambled to grab onto the broom with her other hand.

"No, no! Down!" she shouted as the broom continued to rise. "Down! Bad broom! Down now!"

Apparently the broom was fed up with her commands because it suddenly began to vibrate, causing her to lose her grip and fall. Luckily, Hermione was only about eight feet into the air, so the landing merely winded her, but it was still unpleasant.

_Well, that certainly hadn't worked out as planned._

Lying on the frozen ground while she caught her breath, Hermione scowled up at the broom, still vibrating in the air above her. Pulling her wand from her pocket, she pointed it at the broom and muttered a spell to blast it into lots of tiny, non-threatening pieces. Her sense of satisfaction in the destruction was cut short when she heard male laughter. Turning her head, she spotted a familiar blond. She quickly scrambled to her feet.

"That was priceless, Granger," Draco Malfoy said once he stopped chuckling.

"How much did you see?" she asked warily, cheeks heating. With any luck, he had only seen her blow up the broom.

"Everything," he drawled out slowly, dashing her hopes.

Mirth was shining in Malfoy's eyes. Hermione didn't want to deal with that, so she began the trek back to the castle. She scowled when she felt his presence next to her.

"Don't you have lackeys you should be bossing around right about now?" she asked huffily, having just realized that he was alone, no Crabbe or Goyle in sight.

"Needed a break," he said shortly. "You suck at flying, Granger."

Hermione scowled but kept her eyes focused ahead of her.

"I didn't think you cared about flying, either. Trying to learn for the boyfriend?" he asked in a mocking tone.

Though she didn't answer, her cheeks heated once again in response to the accusation. She could feel Malfoy's eyes on her and his snort of amusement confirmed that she was blushing. She had never been as happy to enter the castle as she was in that moment.

"Why bother learning? Seems like a lot of work when you could just go with him on his broom. I mean, sure, his taste is crappy, but he's a guy. And flying together is a good way to grope a girl."

With that, Malfoy split off toward the dungeon and Hermione began to climb the stairs to the Gryffindor common room. Insult aside, she thought that he was onto something. She could offer to go with Viktor on his broom. Best of all, if she wasn't the one flying, she could just keep her eyes shut the entire time and pretend that she was still within reach of the ground.

It would take several weeks before Hermione realized that she'd actually had what could pass as a civil conversation with Malfoy.

ooooo

Sixth year was tough. There were many reasons why Hermione pretty much hated life during sixth year. There was the obvious: Voldemort, the mysterious disappearances and frequent deaths, Voldemort, Death Eaters, and, oh yeah, Voldemort. And then there was the fact that her hormones and emotions didn't care that she was living through a war. She was a teenager and she was in love. With one of her best friends. Who was dating another girl. And snogging her nearly every moment that they weren't in class.

Was it any wonder that she hated sixth year?

It didn't take long for Hermione to form a plan for how to deal with the Ron and Lavender situation. While she didn't know what had driven him to snog the idiot in the first place, only that he had seemed angry at her for a couple of weeks prior, Hermione knew that Ron had a weakness when it came to her. Specifically, her and other guys. So, Hermione figured that she just needed to stir up his jealousy as a reminder that, whatever he felt for Lavender, he liked her too.

Once again, Hermione locked herself behind her bed curtains with parchment and quill. She already knew that Slughorn's party, which she had initially invited Ron to attend with her, was the perfect occasion to put her plan in motion. Nibbling on her bottom lip, she began listing out appropriate candidates to serve as her date. She needed to make sure that whoever she picked would annoy Ron the most.

In the end, the list consisted of just three names. Letting out a slight snicker, she crossed off the bottom name. She had only added Malfoy to the list for completion's sake, after all, since he was by far the boy who would annoy Ron the most. He would never lower himself to attending a party as the date of a Muggleborn, though, and Hermione would likely have hexed him before the night was out, anyway.

She turned to the last two names on the list: Zacharias Smith and Cormac McLaggen. Hermione took several minutes to list out the qualities that would suit each boy to most annoy Ron. Once she was done, she studied what she had written and decided that Cormac's Quidditch skill, and in the same position as Ron at that, gave the older boy the edge.

Hermione later regretted taking Cormac to the party, of course. He was highly self-centered and was harder to escape from than an Acromantula. He seemed to have as many arms as one, too. She had been thrilled for the brief respite she received when she met up with Harry and Luna. Aside from those few moments of peace, she'd spent the night dodging her not-so-chivalrous date until she was finally able to escape to her dormitory. She hadn't even had a chance to talk to any of the special guests that Professor Slughorn had invited.

Given how little time she'd spent with her date, imagine her surprise when she heard the rumor floating around that she had slept with him. Within days of her return from her parents', Hermione couldn't go anywhere within the castle without hearing the whispers that she was a slut. And, apparently, she and Cormac had an ongoing sexual relationship.

Initially, Hermione tried to defend herself from the accusations, but she had quickly learned that nobody believed her. They all thought that she was just trying to protect her reputation as a virginal know-it-all rather than telling the truth. Then she turned her hopes to Harry defending her, but he was so wrapped up in his own stuff that she was sure he didn't even notice the rumors. Ron was no help, of course. He was angry and jealous about the rumors. She finally just stopped trying to defend herself but that didn't mean the lies hurt any less.

Her plan had worked to a certain extent, but she had never expected it to ruin her reputation.

"I heard she shagged him in the prefect's bathroom two nights ago," a fifth year Hufflepuff whispered to her friends when Hermione passed in the hallway three weeks after classes restarted.

By the time she overheard that, Hermione had reached her breaking point. She was tired of the stares, the whispers, and the lewd proposals she received now that everyone thought she was willing to sleep around. Unable to take anymore, and not wanting to cry in front of them, she escaped to the Quidditch pitch, sure that she would be alone given the freezing weather.

"Waiting for your lover?"

Hermione ignored the voice of the annoying Slytherin. If she ignored him, he'd go away and leave her to her misery.

"Really, Granger? McLaggen?" he questioned as he climbed out of the stands. "I know you're a Mudblood, but I thought even you'd have better taste than that. He's sure as hell a step down from Krum."

Hermione had watched Malfoy approach but when he came to a stop in front of her, she turned her gaze to the stars that were just fading into view. She needed time to get her tears under control before he saw them.

"So, tell me," he continued conversationally. "Did you really do him in the owlery?"

She felt her eyebrow drift up curiously of its own accord. That was one she hadn't heard before. She shivered in disgust; who on Earth would have sex in the owlery? Or could, for that matter?

He must have noticed her distaste because she caught sight of his head bobbing at the bottom of her line of sight.

"Yeah, I didn't think so," he admitted. "You have too much undeserved pride for that, way more than any Mudblood should. Or at least I thought you did until you started sleeping with McLaggen."

Irritated with the boy's persistence on the subject, Hermione finally dropped her newly tear-free gaze to meet his. She was surprised to see how weary he looked, his pale skin even paler than usual with large dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn't been sleeping. She could understand; she hadn't been sleeping all that well recently herself. It made her wonder if he was on the pitch to escape something too. Despite his tired appearance, his eyes themselves glowed with the same amusement at her expense that she had seen there several times before.

"I didn't sleep with him," she declared firmly, holding his stare.

For several moments, they stood there, brown eyes caught on silver, before Malfoy looked away.

"Doesn't matter one way or the other to me," he stated with an indifferent shrug.

After he left, Hermione waited another few minutes before the cold drove her to follow him.

The next day, she came down the main staircase into the entry hall to find a crowd gathered near the door into the Great Hall. Interested, she joined the fringes near Hannah Abbott.

"What happened?" she asked curiously.

"I think someone attacked someone else," the blond said. "I didn't really see though, and McGonagall is already in there breaking it up."

"Detention, Mr. Malfoy."

The stern professor's voice rang through the hall, silencing the curious onlookers.

"Whatever could have provoked this attack on Mr. McLaggen's person?"

As if on cue, Cormac exited the ring of people, his face swollen, red, and clearly painful. It looked like he'd been on the receiving end of a strong stinging hex. Fully intrigued now, Hermione listened closely for Malfoy's response.

"I just got sick of his bragging about nailing Granger when everyone knows the most action he'll ever get is a warm sock. Makes the rest of us look bad," came his bored drawl.

The answer earned laughter out of the crowd of observing students and a strangled noise of frustration from Professor McGonagall. Hermione had just covered her own mouth to muffle her giggle when her Head of House appeared out of the crowd, Malfoy at her side, an apathetic expression on his face.

As they passed Hermione, Malfoy met her eyes. For a brief instance, something flashed in his that made her wonder...was it possible that this boy - her enemy, the boy who had seen her most embarrassing moment and shockingly kept it to himself - was protecting her just now? But whatever she had seen was gone so quickly that Hermione was sure she had imagined it.

Shaking her head to clear it of the insane thought, she followed the disbursing crowd into the Great Hall.

ooooo

Hermione's fourth big plan for her personal life was so straightforward that she didn't even bother writing the steps down. It was simple: live happily ever after with Ron. They had finally declared their love for each other, first kissing during the Battle of Hogwarts and then finally exchanging those three little words mere weeks later. It seemed fairly obvious that they would get married, have kids, and finally live a normal life together.

Honestly, she hadn't thought that even her bad luck could screw it up.

Ron had skipped seventh year with Harry to begin his Auror training, and she agreed that was probably the best decision for him. After all, Ron never focused during school, but she knew that he'd actually pay attention to his training, especially since he couldn't simply cheat off of her. Hermione, on the other hand, had chosen to return to Hogwarts and complete her schooling. She still wasn't completely certain what she wanted to do with her life. She could have taken Harry and Ron's route to become an Auror, but she was done with life or death situations. She knew that whatever she decided on in the future would probably be a desk job, and for that she would need her N.E..

One year after the war ended, Hermione graduated alongside Ginny and Luna. The entire Weasley clan plus Harry showed up to help the three girls celebrate. Hermione couldn't have been happier. Now that she had finally finished her schooling, it was surely only a matter of time before Ron proposed, or at the very least, asked her to move in with him.

Two months later, Hermione was finishing up a long day at work. As expected, the Ministry had come calling, attempting to recruit her. They had wanted her talents so badly that they had let her choose her department, although she still had to start in an entry-level position. Her natural inclination had been the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. She knew that was the best place to start since she wanted to eventually protect the House-elves from abuse, even if the majority of them still didn't understand the value of freedom.

On this particular night, an owl dropped an envelope on her desk as she filled out the final acquisition form for the department's new chairs. Scowling over the banality of her job duties, Hermione brushed aside the strands of hair that had fallen out of her French twist and reached for the letter.

Opening it, her eyes widened as she scanned the note.

It was from Ginny, and it was short and succinct. She just wanted to let Hermione know that she and Harry had broken up. It was an amicable, mutual split. They had realized that they were different people now than they were at school and better as friends.

Hermione was surprised, not because they had broken up, but because they had done it so soon. She had fully expected Harry and Ginny to try to make their relationship work for several more months before giving up hope. In fact, she had been severely worried about that exact scenario since she figured the breakup would be extremely bitter after so much time and effort.

As Hermione stood to head home, she felt a bittersweet pang. The end of Harry and Ginny was the end of an era, but it was nice that they had parted on good terms. It took a great deal of maturity to recognize when it was best to stop fighting for the romance that was lost and salvage the friendship that was left.

Six months later, Hermione and Ron were at Harry's for dinner. He and Luna had gotten together, and they had decided to have a few good friends over. This, of course, meant she and Ron, plus Ginny and her new boyfriend, Terry Boot, a Ravenclaw from Hermione's year. Hermione, feelings of anxiety gnawing at her about the lack of progress in her relationship, didn't want to attend, but she knew she couldn't disappoint her friends.

Over the course of the night, Hermione's cheeks reddened on a regular basis. Ginny and Terry were highly...amorous. It seemed like every minute they were left alone, the two would attach at the lips and not part until Hermione inevitably walked in on them and cleared her throat. After this happened for the third time, she had started announcing herself before she entered each room.

Harry and Luna were much more discreet in their affections. They still made Hermione uncomfortable each time she caught them in a private moment, though. While Ginny and Terry were all passion, Harry and Luna were clearly deep, genuine emotion. Hermione saw the lingering glances and light touches they exchanged when they thought no one was looking. Although she was happy for her friends, the love that was so obvious between them made Hermione even more awkward than Ginny and Terry's pawing at each other.

As she lay in Ron's bed that night, Hermione tried to figure out why she felt so uncomfortable. Harry and Luna had only been dating for a month, but Hermione could already tell that they'd end up married one day. The way they looked at each other - well, they clearly saw the future in each others' eyes. Rolling onto her side, Hermione's eyes landed on Ron. Once he had fallen asleep, he had scooted as far away from her as the bed would allow.

Staring at the back of his ginger head, Hermione suddenly knew what the problem was. Even though they had been together for nearly two years, she knew that Ron had never looked at her the way Harry looked at Luna. And she had never looked at him the way Luna looked at Harry.

Rolling onto her side to face away from Ron, she wondered if they had ever truly seen each other clearly. Maybe Hermione had been so focused on reaching the goal of living happily ever after that she hadn't noticed when she'd stopped simply enjoying her relationship with Ron. In the quiet of the dark bedroom, Hermione took a moment to closely examine her feelings, and what she found was only slightly surprising.

She didn't love Ron, at least not in the way that he deserved.

The next night over dinner, Hermione broke the tense silence.

"We're not happy, are we?"

Ron looked up from his plate and met her gaze with an unusually serious one of his own.

"No, we're not. Not like we used to be."

"Not like we should be," she added quietly.

"So we're splitting up, then?" he asked, a slight sorrow in his eyes.

Hermione nodded. "If we're not in love anymore then we shouldn't be together."

They exchanged sad smiles before turning back to their food, the quiet finally comfortable now that the tension was gone.

"Hermione," Ron spoke up suddenly several minutes later.

"Yes?" she questioned, meeting his unexpectedly sparkling blue eyes.

"As a friend, I would still be more than happy to take care of," he paused and wiggled his eyebrows in a ridiculous manner before finishing, "any _urges_you have."

"Ronald Weasley, I'm not that kind of girl!" she exclaimed in mock indignation before bursting into laughter.

As he joined her in amusement, Hermione realized that she and Ron would be fine. Maybe they wouldn't live happily ever after romantically, but a friendly happily ever after was just as good.

And certainly more stable than romance and passion could ever be.

ooooo

A blind date.

Grimacing, Hermione slipped the simple strapless black dress over her head as she grumbled internally.

She couldn't believe that she had agreed to a blind date. Granted, the plan was to get Luna and Ginny off her back, but still...

Once the dress was in place, she quickly twisted her smoothed and straightened hair into a low messy, yet elegant ponytail. Surveying herself in the full length mirror, she decided that she looked perfectly fine for a blind date. Satisfied, she hurried into the living room and slid her feet into the black open-toed pumps that she had set out. As she scanned the room for the tiny purse she kept for formal occasions, her mind scanned back over the conversation that had led to tonight.

_"We're worried about you, Hermione," Ginny opened the instant Hermione sat down at their table in The Leaky Cauldron._

Every Thursday, she, Ginny, and Luna met for lunch. Frowning, she realized that this one was probably going to be different from the others and not in a good way either.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, sipping the pumpkin juice they had ordered for her.

"You don't have a life outside of work," the redhead stated bluntly. "At this rate, you're going to grow up to be a crazy cat lady."

Hermione scowled. She couldn't believe they were having this conversation.

"I'm just dedicated to my job. Both of you know what that's like. Ginny, you're completely committed to the Harpies. And it's not like writing half the articles for a major weekly publication is easy, Luna."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Sure, we focus on our jobs, but we also have social lives. Luna's engaged, and I date fairly regularly. You don't do either of those things."

Hermione opened her mouth to spit out the same excuse that she always gave her mother when she started to harp on her singleness, but Ginny cut her off.

"And don't give me any crap about not being ready. It's been over a year since you and Ron split up. Hell, I got back out there mere weeks after Terry and I broke up."

Annoyed, Hermione snapped her mouth shut and glared at her friend for a moment before turning to the silent blond sitting next to the redhead. Luna was gazing absently down at her engagement ring sparkling in the sunlight streaming through the window. Ever since Harry had proposed two weeks previously, she had been even more flighty than normal.

"Luna?" Hermione asked.

"Cats are quite nice, but they aren't humans," she stated airily, giving her ring one final blinding tilt before focusing on her companions.

"Tell her what you told me," Ginny urged the future Mrs. Potter.

"Oh, yes," Luna agreed serenely before meeting Hermione's gaze. "I set up a date for you."

Hermione was quite glad that she hadn't taken a drink because she likely would have spit the liquid out with those words.

"What?" she shrieked in disbelief.

Ginny answered, "Luna has a friend who seemed interested, so she set things up. You're meeting him at the Bistro Bijou at seven Saturday night."

Hermione stared hopelessly at the stubborn expression on Ginny's face and the equally determined glint in Luna's usually spacey eyes.

"What are the odds of you dropping this if I don't go?" she asked despairingly.

"Zero," Ginny confirmed. "But if you go on this one date, we promise to leave you alone for the next year."

So, Hermione had agreed to meet the guy. After all, what was one night of misery compared to an entire year of peace?

Upon entering the restaurant, Hermione scanned the room, searching for anyone who could possibly be her mystery date. Ginny and Luna hadn't exactly been clear about who she was meeting. They seemed amused by the man's identity, or at least Ginny did - who could ever tell what Luna was thinking?

She had just about decided she could safely leave since she didn't see any single men when an annoyingly familiar voice sounded at her side.

"Looking for someone, Granger?"

Turning her head, Hermione scowled at Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy was a thorn in her side at work. A member of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, he somehow always seemed to find his way to her floor. He would hang around and flirt and socialize. While Hermione was perfectly capable of ignoring him, several other women did not have her self-control or dedication. It was highly annoying since she always had to make up the slack for the others, which meant a lot of extra paperwork.

If she was completely honest with herself, she would admit that there was another reason why he irritated her. The truth was the boy who had seen her terribly embarrassing flight attempt and hexed Cormac McLaggen had grown into a very handsome man. Frankly, he was prettier than she was.

Malfoy had matured into his features. His chin was still pointed but his cheeks had filled out enough to offset the harsh jawline. He still towered a good six inches above her but his shoulders had broadened and his muscles were highly defined. She had caught herself staring at his arms far more often than she'd care to admit. His hair was still the same white blond it always was, but he no longer slicked it back, which was a great improvement. And his eyes...those silver eyes were still as expressive as ever. The few times they had made eye contact at work, they had been filled with amusement and a hint of something else, the same something that she had seen years ago after he had hexed Cormac. She had never quite figured out what that something else was.

"I'm looking for my date," she finally admitted, turning away from him to survey the room once again.

"It's a good thing I found you, then," he stated, humor tingeing his voice.

When his words sank in, Hermione turned to him again, an expression of pure shock on her face.

"What?"

"Come on, Granger. Let's check in."

Cupping her elbow in his hand, Malfoy led her to the hostess station. Completely stunned, Hermione could only follow.

"How do you know Luna?" Hermione asked over dessert.

Dinner had been surprisingly pleasant. Sure, Malfoy still had a tendency toward arrogance and he definitely liked to rile her up, but she didn't sense any maliciousness in it anymore. Their viewpoints also diverged on several different topics, but she'd actually had fun debating the points with him. It was nice to spend time with someone who challenged her intellect. She was amazed to discover that she'd actually be disappointed when the night ended.

"I'm the Quibbler's department contact," he responded. "I talk to her every week."

Hermione allowed a grin to split her face.

"But that would mean that you actually work," she pointed out.

"Well, yes," he confirmed. "What did you think I do?"

She shrugged delicately. "I thought you simply wandered all of the floors, flirting with anyone who seemed amenable."

If she had hoped to embarrass him by calling him out on his unprofessional behavior, she was to be disappointed. Instead of acting even slightly flustered, Malfoy reached out and slid his thumb along the back of her hand.

"I only visit your floor."

Her throat suddenly dry, she gulped. The movement of his thumb was sending tiny sparks up her arm.

"Why?" she rasped, staring at where their hands were connected.

"Because you're there," he answered huskily.

Hermione pulled her gaze up. She immediately noticed that his silver eyes had darkened to the gray of molten steel. She could see desire along with that same unfamiliar spark. It was in that moment that she recognized what it was: consideration. It was the look of a man who was reevaluating how he saw her. With that knowledge, she was now sure that he had, in fact, hexed Cormac in her defense, although she doubted that even he had realized that until after he had done it.

"I'm going to be honest with you," he stated seriously. "I can't say I'm in love with you yet and I can't promise you forever right now. What I can offer you, Hermione, is a lot of really hot, highly creative, scream until you're hoarse sex. We can go from there on the rest of it."

A bolt of heat shot through her at the promise in his voice and the sound of her first name on his lips. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that he could follow through on his words. But she wouldn't be herself if she didn't protest.

"I...I'm not th...that kind of girl," she stuttered out hoarsely.

When he wordlessly lifted her hand to run his lips along the back, maintaining eye contact the entire time, Hermione gulped yet again. So much for her plan of just one date to get her friends to leave her alone.

Since she wasn't that kind of girl, she knew that she'd have to stick it out long enough to experience all of the wonderful, sinful things Malfoy offered.

ooooo

Two weeks and three dates later, Hermione woke up wrapped snugly in a pair of strong arms. When she tried to pull out of the embrace to stretch, she found herself hauled right back against the solid chest behind her. A small twinge between her legs reminded her of all the breathtaking things she had done last night and just exactly who she had done them with. He had definitely kept his promise plus some. Her throat was sore from all the moaning and screaming of the previous night.

Rolling over in Draco's embrace, she stared at his finely sculpted features, so relaxed in sleep. A gentle smile crossed her face at how tranquil he looked, an adjective that she would never apply to him when he was awake. As she trailed a finger across his soft, slightly swollen lips, one particular sentence from their first date came floating back to her.

"I can't say I'm in love with you yet and I can't promise you forever right now."

She briefly wondered if he remembered the 'yet' and 'right now' that he had included in that sentence. She just as quickly shoved the thought away. Hermione knew better than to try to plan another happily ever after. That didn't mean she couldn't make a different plan, though.

Namely, to have as much sex as possible with Draco Malfoy before he got bored and moved on.

As long as she never counted on them being permanent, she didn't see how even her natural bad luck could ruin that plan.

A/N 2: I actually plan to write a separate oneshot from Draco's POV that will closely relate to this one. I'm still nailing down the final theme. Just as this oneshot focused on Hermione's personal plans that had fallen apart, I want to give Draco's oneshot a central idea. I'm currently torn between two choices: five times that he was almost caught in an embarrassing situation or five secret good deeds that he had done. I'm leaning more toward the latter because I feel it would make the events in his story easier to tie in to the events in this one. Again, please read and review.


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